Chapter Thirty-Four: The Adorable Savage Beast!

To be honest, Qin Luo’s combat experience was not extensive. Before leaving the Qin family, due to his physical condition, he was like a newlywed bride, secluded at home. He rarely had the chance to go out, and even then, only accompanied by his grandfather. He never had the opportunity to fight anyone.

If there was any fighting at all, it was the daily morning sparring with his grandfather. Qin Luo used the “Body Guidance Technique” against his grandfather’s “Small Tai Chi,” exchanging blows back and forth, and thoroughly enjoying themselves.

But those matches were purely for physical training, fundamentally different from the real, potentially injurious fight he faced now.

While Qin Luo had never fought a Muay Thai expert, he knew well the fierce reputation of Muay Thai. As Thailand’s traditional martial art, its hallmark is the ability to strike with elbows and knees at extremely close range—a brutal style with enormous destructive power.

Muay Thai is so popular in Thailand that the saying goes, “Out of ten men, nine practice boxing.” The prevalence of boxing there is clear. Nowadays, even some special forces around the world adopt Muay Thai as part of their basic training.

Tao Ran was indeed a Muay Thai expert, moving with incredible speed. As soon as he arrived, he launched a powerful punch at Qin Luo’s face.

Qin Luo stepped back, using his palm to deflect Tao Ran’s arm and redirect the incoming fist.

He knew his own stamina was weak; to match strength for strength would be futile. He could only use softness to overcome hardness, seeking an opening for a single decisive move.

His “Twelve Daoist Brocades” was precisely the perfect method for this—much like Tai Chi, it specialized in using softness to beat force. He and his grandfather had often practiced “push hands,” and he was a master at using minimal force to redirect powerful attacks.

No sooner had he finished this move than Tao Ran lunged forward, aiming a heavy knee strike at Qin Luo’s abdomen.

Bang!

Qin Luo had no choice but to meet the attack with his own knee. Their knees collided with force, and both men staggered back a step.

“Heh, I don’t believe you can dodge forever,” Tao Ran said, grinning triumphantly.

“And I don’t believe you can keep laughing forever,” Qin Luo retorted, bending slightly and rubbing his knee.

“Hurts, doesn’t it? I’ve practiced that move for years—broke plenty of sandbags with it,” Tao Ran said, more accomplished than ever after seeing Qin Luo’s reaction.

“You’re only good at breaking sandbags,” Qin Luo replied with a smile. He knew in his heart that the move was indeed devastating. His own body wasn’t strong enough to take many such blows; a few more collisions like that and he’d likely end up with fractures.

Without experiencing it firsthand, one can never truly understand the force behind a Muay Thai fighter’s elbows and knees.

“Very well. Let me show you—I can break more than just sandbags. I can shatter your bones,” Tao Ran said, his smile turning sinister.

“Mr. Qin, be careful! Don’t try to block him head-on,” Wang Jiujie called out from behind.

Qin Luo smiled wryly. He knew that advice perfectly well.

But it required the means to dodge. Tao Ran possessed not only great strength but exceptional speed.

If not for this cursed innate Yang meridian, all he had learned would have made Tao Ran insignificant. But now—like a tiger fallen from the mountain, vulnerable to a pack of dogs.

As soon as Tao Ran finished speaking, he launched himself at Qin Luo again.

This time, it was a combination of a right hook and a side kick, attacking high and low simultaneously. He was determined to force Qin Luo to take the blow, not merely dodge.

His strategy succeeded—Qin Luo countered with both fist and foot.

A wicked smile curled Tao Ran’s lips, and suddenly, his elbow shot out, striking fiercely at Qin Luo’s chest.

Qin Luo retreated until the backs of his legs touched the marble coffee table at the center of the room.

Tao Ran pressed forward rapidly, intent on completing this attack.

Some students cried out in alarm, shouting, “Mr. Qin, be careful!” Tao Ran’s followers cheered, their faces lit with smiles.

But their expressions quickly froze.

Qin Luo performed an astonishing move.

He leaned back, then further back, arching his body until it was nearly a full one hundred eighty degrees. His head almost emerged between his own legs. His waist seemed boneless, his body as supple as a snake—a pose befitting a dancer trained for years.

Indeed, Qin Luo had practiced this move for years. It was the “Head Down, Touch Feet” maneuver from the “Twelve Daoist Brocades,” the origin of many urban women’s yoga poses.

Tao Ran’s elbow missed entirely. Shocked by Qin Luo’s display, his mind was momentarily distracted, and Qin Luo’s fist shot out, striking directly at his waist.

It hit the “Distraction Point,” a spot that, when touched, inflicts immediate injury.

Acupoints possess the supreme utility of “attack a single spot, defeat the whole body.” In the skill of striking acupoints, few in the world surpassed Qin Luo.

Smack!

Tao Ran fell backward, collapsing without warning, just as Qin Luo had previously dispatched Ma Heng’s dancing friend.

“Boss, boss—!”

“Brother Ran, are you alright?”

“Brothers, spill some blood for this guy! Avenge the boss!”

The thugs shouted, and chaos erupted once more.

Li Meng and Wang Jiujie rushed forward, shielding Qin Luo behind them.

The security captain, who had been hiding in the crowd to watch the commotion, saw Tao Ran defeated and quickly led his men forward, shouting, “What do you think you’re doing? This is a place for entertainment and relaxation, not for fighting!”

“Is that so? Then why were you hiding in the back, watching the show?” Wang Jiujie sneered. With her height and sharp eyes, she had already spotted the security captain lurking behind the crowd. Now he rushed out, probably worried that someone might harm the fallen thug.

“Who was watching the show? Which eye of yours saw it? What sort of behavior is this—a woman making a scene like this? Everyone, put down whatever you’re holding. We’ve already called the police. They’ll handle this matter.”

He was confident of his boss’s connections; when the police arrived, they would surely “settle” things.

“No need. I’ve already called someone,” Wang Jiujie replied coldly.

“Excellent,” the security captain sneered. “The more, the merrier. Let’s see how many people you can call.”

Suddenly, the entire Golden Palm trembled.

First came the commotion from the first floor, mingled with women’s screams. Then came the pounding of footsteps up the stairs.

When a squad of fully armed soldiers appeared before them, the security team turned deathly pale, frozen in shock.

Wang Jiujie spotted the bespectacled man leading the group and called out in delight, “Gao Shen, over here!”

He saw her as well, and with a wave of his hand, his men surged forward like wolves, surrounding Wang Jiujie protectively.

The bespectacled soldier glanced at the thugs holding knives and barked, “Someone is attempting to harm the family of a commanding officer—Guard Squad, prepare for combat!”

Click!

The soldiers readied their weapons, disengaging the safety on their submachine guns.

The stunned thugs finally snapped out of it, dropping their knives and falling to their knees to beg for mercy.

“Brother, don’t shoot!”

“It’s not my fault! I didn’t do anything—”

“We were just playing. Just playing—”

Li Qingyang watched the scene unfold before him, regret twisting his guts. What kind of people had he provoked? Even monsters like these had been summoned.

He glanced at Tao Ran, who was lying on the ground desperately signaling him, shook his head, and tried to sneak away.

He had barely taken a step when Wang Jiujie spotted him.

“Stop!” she barked.

She pointed at Li Qingyang and said, “He tried to assault me earlier, and after failing, brought these men for revenge.”

“Really?” Gao Shen asked, astonished.

“Do I look like I’m lying? I’m very angry right now,” Wang Jiujie said, her face stern.

“Drag him over here,” Gao Shen said, pointing at Li Qingyang.

Two soldiers immediately seized Li Qingyang and brought him before Gao Shen.

“Ever since I put on this uniform, I’ve considered myself a model citizen,” Gao Shen said darkly.

Suddenly, he struck Li Qingyang across the face. “But today, I have to say, damn it! You dare harass the princess of our compound?”

Smack!

He slapped Li Qingyang with his other hand.

“It’s always our princess who teases others—when has anyone ever dared tease her?”

Slap, slap, slap!

By the time Gao Shen finished, Li Qingyang was lying on the ground, barely conscious, never uttering a word in protest.

“Princess, was that satisfying?” Gao Shen asked Wang Jiujie quietly.

“It’ll do. What about those thugs?” Wang Jiujie pointed at them.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take them all back. Didn’t you notice? This time, it’s the Guard Squad. Attempted violence against a leader’s family—this charge will be more than enough for them,” Gao Shen replied with a fawning smile.

“That’s more like it. But how did you come out here? With my father’s style, he wouldn’t give you a chance to show off like this,” Wang Jiujie asked, puzzled.

Gao Shen’s expression turned odd. He answered softly, “The Commander was inspecting things when your mother suddenly called, saying someone was trying to violate you—urging him to send help quickly, or your chastity wouldn’t be safe—”

The Commander, furious, dispatched us immediately. We were in the middle of protecting him and didn’t even have time to remove our weapons.

Black lines appeared on Wang Jiujie’s forehead. She thought, her extraordinary mother really was in sync with her.

Just as she was planning to pin everything on Li Qingyang, her mother cooperated perfectly—confirming the charges against them.

Even if word spread, others would only see it as her father acting out of family loyalty, which would not harm his reputation.

After all, anyone would make the same choice if their loved one were in danger.

As for these thugs—well, she’d mourn for them.

“My mother isn’t here, is she?” Wang Jiujie asked.

“Not yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Heh. She’s on her way. You’re doomed,” Gao Shen said, checking his wristwatch. “Oh, your mother’s coming. I need to get my men out of here.”

“What do you mean? You make my mother sound like some kind of disaster,” Wang Jiujie complained.

“Oh, Princess, to call her a disaster is an insult. What disaster could compare to your mother? I’d better disappear.”

Mentioning Wang Jiujie’s mother, Gao Shen wore a look of genuine fear.

Qin Luo, watching from the side, found it odd—hadn’t Wang Jiujie said her mother was sick?